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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23044651">Home Sweet Fleabag</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/belivaird_st/pseuds/belivaird_st'>belivaird_st</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fleabag (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Family, Love/Hate, Sisters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:02:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>517</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23044651</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/belivaird_st/pseuds/belivaird_st</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire moves in with Fleabag and regrets her decision immediately.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claire &amp; Fleabag (Fleabag), Claire/Klare (Fleabag)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Claire followed Fleabag inside the single-floor apartment with a light blue tote bag dangling from the crook of her arm. They stopped in front of a room with dirty piles of laundry thrown everywhere and the bed unmade with more clothes, receipts, make-up, and the million-dollar worth golden trophy of the headless lady with the nice pair of tits.</p><p>“How can you sleep in here? It looks like a bomb’s been hit!” Claire exclaimed. </p><p>“Still haven’t got the chance to clean it out, yet,” Fleabag said, tugging her bottom lip with her teeth.</p><p>“Well, <i>make time</i>, if you know what’s good for you,” Claire scolded. “Sharing your filthy space is the last thing I need right now!”</p><p>Fleabag kept moving along with Claire hurrying after her. The permanent decision was made that she would be sleeping on the couch in the living room until the divorce from Martin was finalized. </p><p>“This will have to do,” Claire sighed, placing her bag down on one end of the couch. Fleabag was smirking beside her.</p><p>“Should we celebrate?” </p><p>“What for? The fact that I’ve put a restraining order on my terrible ex-husband, or that I’m homeless and decided to move-in with my sister for god knows how long?” </p><p>“Both,” Fleabag smiled. “I can pop us a bottle of wine...?”</p><p>“Please go away before I hit you hard with something,” Claire grumbled, rubbing her sore, tiresome eyes.</p><p>“How come you’re not sharing your life with Klare again?” Fleabag started to move her fuzzy socked feet towards the kitchen.  </p><p>“Because we are still professional business partners who don’t want to jeopardize our positions in the company!” Claire yelled after her. </p><p>“Ohh, right!”</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fleabag was rolling a stick of deodorant in her bathroom the next morning when she jumps from hearing Claire’s muffled, annoyed voice coming through the door.</p><p>“Are you going to be in there all day? I have to pee!”</p><p><i>I completely forgot that my sister was staying with me!</i> Fleabag stifled a laugh and brought the deodorant out from underneath her blouse. She turned around to open the door, meeting a mascara-smeared, hangover Claire, standing before her with her short, dark hair tossed up, askew. Last night’s drinking went a little overboard with Fleabag cheering for her sister to drink as many glasses of wine as she could, while she was slurring and cursing out Martin’s name.</p><p>“Good morning,” Fleabag greeted. “How well did you sleep?”</p><p>“Like a bulldozer piling a mountain of rocks onto my head,” Claire grumbled. “Now will you please get out of my way!” she had barreled herself into the bathroom with Fleabag stumbling out. The door slammed hard shut with a clicking of a lock going into place.</p><p>An hour or so went by with both sisters looking well-made up, fully sober, walking down the streets of London arguing over where to grab coffee and a bite to eat.</p><p>“It would make sense going to the cafe,” Fleabag snorted.</p><p>“Somewhere different for a change,” Claire declined.</p><p>“You’ll be supporting my business,” Fleabag reminded her.</p><p>Claire felt bad now.</p><p>“Oh, fine,” she gave in. </p><p>Fleabag smiled.</p>
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